Good Form
by thoughtsofanonymous
Summary: Captain Swan. AU. Enchanted Forest, no curse. Plot line based off of the movie "Dirty Dancing." Emma finds herself subject to spending her summer at a boring royal retreat. Sick of abiding by the rules, she begins to sneak off to spend time with the retreat dance instructor. I don't own any rights to "Dirty Dancing" or the show "Once Upon a Time."
1. Chapter 1

The forest was alive with the chirping of crickets and owls. The pathway was lit by the full radiance of the white moonlight. Emma stumbled down the foliage-covered path towards the grounds where all of the royal families lodged. Her feet were blistering and sore from the four hours spent jammed in stilettos. Charming and Snow were still at the ball, of course, dancing away the minutes and hours as if it were all one great blur. To them it probably felt that way. Emma was just grateful that she packed a change of clothes so she wouldn't have to trek through the wilderness in her dress. If she had to look at another ball gown in the next week, she was sure she'd drown herself in the lake.

They had been at the retreat for a week now. Her parents got along great with the other monarchs that attended. The retreat was all the imp's doing, as was everything nowadays it seemed. He loved being the center of attention; the orchestrator of everyone's plans. It was no secret that Emma's dad couldn't stand Rumplestiltskin. Emma had no problem abiding by her father's wishes and avoiding the man, he was positively manic. Despite the obvious need not to piss him off by refusing his invitation for the summer retreat, Charming and Snow sincerely enjoyed the company of the other families. It wasn't just about appeasing Rumplestiltskin's ominous wish to attend his little summer get-together. The opportunity for all the powerful monarchs to spend a summer retreat together on peaceful terms just couldn't be passed off.

A harsh gust of wind blew right through her, nearly knocking her off balance. Emma shuddered back a chill and battled to keep walking. She had to get back to the cabin. It was also the only true escape from all the craziness.

Just as she rounded the corner that led towards the lodgings, Emma caught sight of a wavering figure up ahead. She kept her attention nervously fixed to the ground, though couldn't help but add a little pep in her step due to her curious nature. The man ahead of her was barely making any ground with whatever it was that he was carrying. Though he was tall and seemingly fit, Emma had a knack for spotting a guy in trouble. She hurried up ahead when it looked like the man was about to fall over and drop everything. "Hey," she shouted and reached out for a barrel. "You need help with that?"

Now that she could see him properly in the light, Emma recognized him to be none other than her waiter. "Jack," she muttered with shock. His full name was Jack Sparrow actually. He was Emma's age, eighteen, which made it even worse for her to try to converse with him. His dark brown hair was borderline shaggy. His blue eyes were hidden under the masking layer of black grease. Of course, he wasn't the most dangerous kid Emma had run into before, but he had enough of a reputation to go under the radar of a princess. There were many rogues, scoundrels and felons working at the retreat that summer. It seemed escaping a deal with Rumplestiltskin meant paying for it through other means.

"Aye," he nodded and gripped his arms around the single barrel. "No need to go through the trouble. Just leave it there. I'll come back for it."

"No," she shook her head, "it's not like I'm doing anything. I'll help you."

"I appreciate the sentiment, princess, but you aren't allowed where I'm headed. It's staff only."

"I'm helping you carry up a barrel of liquor, not crashing the party."

Jack nervously glanced up at the old stone mill ahead. The windows on the ground floor glowed from the warm lantern lights inside. From where they stood, the cheerful melody of the fiddle could be heard. Jack turned back and looked at her. "Alright but you can't speak a word about this, you understand?"

She nodded and secured her hold around the small barrel. As they walked up the path in silence, the music got louder and louder. Emma felt her heart begin to skip with the anticipation. Jack shot her one last amused look before turning and pushing the door open with his back.

Pirates, brothel whores, farm hands, and other lower class adolescents crowded what appeared to be a small pub. There was a band, or rather an informal group of boys, sitting in the corner of the room performing fiddles, drums, basses, and other string instruments that were foreign to Emma. Much to her surprise, there wasn't a sheet of music in front of them. _What the..._

"C'mon Emma, over here," Jack beckoned for her to follow him across the dance floor. As hard as Emma tried, she couldn't help but look up and meet hostile glares of the people her own age. Some of them looked confused while others were annoyed. She wasn't wearing her ball gown anymore, but there was still no denying her identity with this crowd. Having served her family breakfast, lunch and dinner, they knew damn well where she belonged.

And it sure wasn't here.

Emma carefully set the barrel down on the table, only to be swarmed by thirsty dancers eagerly grabbing for the nozzles. Jack grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the way, giving the guests a clear path to the ale. Emma grumbled and brushed off her shirt. "Thirsty much?"

"This is no place for formalities, as I'm sure you've noticed, princess."

The door entrance suddenly slammed open on the other side of the pub. People cheered and crowded around the two people that entered. Teenagers poured themselves drinks and toasted in the air for the two newcomers Emma still couldn't see. In the thickness of their excited welcoming, the crowd obliged the two people a pathway to the dance floor. The music picked up, serving as its own welcome to the two new dance partners as they made their way to the center of the action.

Emma's heart jumped with recognition when the two figures finally came into sight; they were the two dancers she saw earlier in the ballroom. The girl's dark curly hair was no longer pinned in an elaborate bun; it flowed wildly out beyond her shoulders. Her eyes shined blue, her grin matched that of her partner's. Hanging at her hips, the white cotton dress flowed down to her ankles and swayed freely with every light step she took. She threw her arms up over her partner's shoulders, vocalizing her excitement in laughter. The guy had already discarded the jacket that he had worn at the ball, leaving nothing but a loose white undershirt that stuck to the moisture beaded along his chest. He grinned devilishly and molded his body against hers, wasting absolutely no time in the song. Unlike before in the ballroom, where they danced with precision and swift light steps, they were now grinding against each other slowly in one fashioned unit. His arms explored the bare exposed frame of her back as his head dropped to the crook of her neck.

Watching them dance so intimately felt intrusive though at the same time it was like an art. They read each other, moved together so perfectly. The beat of the fiddler hastened. Picking up on the cue, he picked his partner up and childishly swung her around. Her dress billowed magnificently in the air and commanded the attention of everyone around them. With a faster pace, the couple was able to show off their footwork and cohesiveness. Dancers formed a circle around them and cheered drunken chants of encouragement.

"Allow me to apologize on his account," Jack grumbled by Emma's side. "My cousin's a bit of a show-off, isn't he?"

"He's your cousin?"

"Aye, his name is Killian. The girl he's with is Milah. The perfect couple, no?"

"Yeah."

"Actually no," Jack chuckled and shook his head. "Not really… They were once. Times have changed. Now they're more like brother-sister. They look out for each other; take care of the other. I guess that's all you really need when you already have so little." Emma nodded numbly, still transfixed with his face. He laughed boyishly and threw Milah up in the air. The girl spread her arms out like a bird, relishing in the whip of wind that breezed through her wild curls. The drummer calmed the beat, communicating to the other musicians and the dancers that the end of the song was drawing near. Detecting the slowing transition, Milah stretched her body out straight up and let him lower her down. Her frame brushed his body; her face provocatively grazed against his lips. The crowd responded with cooing, whistles and snickers.

They stayed like that in the silence between the two songs; wrapped around each other, breathing with triumphant euphoric smiles. In that moment they felt like they were on top of the world. That much was evident to everyone in the pub, including Emma. People began massing on the dance floor as the next song picked up, though the pair of them seemed done for moment. Killian held Milah's hand and cooly led her off from the building crowd towards the drinks.

"Killian!" Jack shouted and beckoned for him to come over. _No, please no._ He looked over to his younger cousin standing by Emma's side and acknowledged him with a nod. Once they both had a drink in hand, Killian and Milah shuffled through the mass of people conversing until they finally reached Jack and Emma.

Killian's eyes immediately narrowed in on Emma. "What the bloody hell is she doing here, cousin?"

"Her name's Emma."

The woman's eyes widened with apprehension. "Do you realize what kind of trouble we could get into if word gets out about this place?"

Jack shifted his weight uncomfortably at a loss for words. "Hey," Emma butted in, "I'm not going to tell anyone. It's not like I want my parents knowing I was here."

Milah glared at Emma, her arms crossed uncomfortably. Her clear blue eyes didn't show signs of anger as much as they reflected concern and fear. "Let's hope not. Some of us can't afford to lose this job."

One of the other boys, another scoundrel by the looks of it, pulled Milah's arm and beckoned her to join him on the dance floor as the fiddlers began another cheerful melody. Killian gave Emma another cautious look-over before turning and finding another single lady on the floor.

Emma felt her heart throb as he walked away. _Why did she care how he looked at her?_ She barely knew the guy. There was something different about him though. He was the definition of the guy that stood on the other side of the line that her parents had always taught her not to cross. He wasn't safe. On the contrary he was mysterious… dangerous… free.

Jack grinned curiously at Emma's googly-eyed expression after his cousin and offered his hand. "Care to join me, milady?"

"You sure that's alright?"

"You're already here. What harm would it do?"

Emma rolled her eyes with a grin and took his hand. Jack led them through a few couples before settling into an open space. His fingers wove around hers as he took another step closer to her. Her gaze darted nervously around at the other dancers. "Wait. I don't know if I can do this," she mumbled under her breath. "I've never really, you know, tried this before."

"You have to just go with the music." He stepped one way and then moved the other, expecting her to immediately catch on. She followed his steps hesitantly, trying her hardest not to overthink it. Dancing has always been about thinking with her. It was what she was taught to do. Think the steps. Remember the transitions. What she was doing now was uncharted territory.

Jack chuckled and put his hands on her hips in an effort to lead her. "You know, for someone who was raised with dance lessons you're not much for rhythm, highness."

"Shut up," she snapped as her cheeks blushed red. "This doesn't make any sense."

"Does it have to?" He challenged her with a raised eyebrow before catching the eye of the person approaching them.

"Really cousin, you're doing her more of a disservice than anything." Before Emma could acknowledge the mocking voice, another hand wrapped around her hip and spun her around. In a split-second she was just inches away from his smug grin, "Allow me." No longer in the safety of Jack's gentle grasp, Emma's fingers were now curled around _his_ rough knuckles. _Oh god, oh god, oh god. Okay too close._ Her head was screaming with excitement as his face hovered mere inches away from hers. His blue eyes darted down to her lips and then back up to her horrified eyes. "So you want to learn how to dance, Princess?"

Her lips curled into her mouth, dry with nerves. "I just… I don't really know…" He silenced her with a gentle finger to her mouth.

"Easy love, it's not all that challenging." He dug his thigh between her legs and pulled her back into him. She was tempted to listen to the thoughts that screamed in her head to run. She didn't belong here. She wasn't supposed to be doing this. There wasn't anything sensible or decent about this.

He gave her no choice but to follow his lead. Unlike Jack, who knew the definition of boundaries, Killian wasn't fazed by their intimate closeness. She swallowed nervously and calculated her steps, desperate to avoid stepping on his toes or tripping over her own feet. He frowned and spun her around so that she was facing away. His forearm slid around her stomach and pressed her back against his lean chest. _Dear God._

"It's not enough to know the steps, princess. You have to feel it," he purred in her ear. She damn well felt something. She felt her core begin to melt as the lower half of his torso pressed against her back. He spun her back around and pulled her close enough to smell the sweet rum on his breath.

Emma felt her body trembling with uncertainty, the knowledge of how wrong this was. _If her father knew where she was right now... what she was doing..._ Her clammy grasp around his fingers tightened as she felt the weight on her legs lose balance. _Stay focused Emma, think. One two three four one_-

He shook his head and brought two fingers up to his eyes. "Look here, darling. Allow me to take care of the rest." Those two hypnotic blue eyes caught the glow from the lanterns behind her, bringing them to life beneath the shroud of black hovering under his lashes. His gaze was intense; she couldn't look away even she wanted to. He smirked with a raised brow, relishing in her innocence, before wrapping an arm around her back and holding her even closer until she was barely standing on her own. He swayed to the left, then the right. The transition shook her by surprise. _What was he doing? Where was the sense in this kind of dancing?_

"This is no bloody, waltz." His fingers tightened around her waist, helping to guide her into sync. "There's no need to control. Let go of yourself, princess."

Her muscles relaxed, her legs went wobbly. "Okay, okay," she whispered half out of breath. She shut her eyes and sucked in the thick humid air. As the vibrating bass beat into her ear, the beat crept under her skin. Her body slowly began to respond to it, obeying the lyrics beckoning to her. Leaning her weight against his frame, Emma let finally him take control. His leg pressed against her, guiding her into a rhythmic movement back and forth. She swung her arms over his shoulders and leaned her head back, letting the warm air between them blow through the cleavage of her shirt. "That's it, love," she heard him whisper.

This was dangerous. His other hand slid behind her neck to pull her back close to his face. This was wrong. Her legs tightened around his thigh. This was exciting. She felt his fingers grip her waist hungrily. She could no longer suppress the grin that now widened across her face. Killian leaned in closer and whispered in her ear, "See darling, there's nothing to it."

God, she felt weightless. The triumphant euphoria surged within her being as the two of them continued their dance, swaying to one side and then the other. She didn't want it to ever end.

The crowd erupted in applause, turning to the musicians in the corner with cheers and claps. Emma didn't even notice the song had ended before Killian swiftly untwined their bodies and paced away from her without a departing word.

"Emma!" Jack yelled while he unmercifully pushed through a few couples to reach her. "Emma, your parents are looking for you. You have to go!"

She shook her head out of the daze. "Wait, what?"

"Yeah, you have to leave now before we all get in trouble."

Emma looked around for Killian, just to get one final glance before having to leave. Her eyes scoured the crowded pub but she had no luck. The pub was jammed with people, far more than there should have been. Just like that, he was gone. And unfortunately so was she.

* * *

**Okay so this is my first attempt at an AU! I am so so very nervous to post it because I honestly have no clue whether it's worth anything or not. As you might have noticed, I have taken some characters and played around with their age a bit (Emma is around eighteen and Killian/Milah are in their early twenties). I also erased the connection between Milah and Rumplestiltskin, just to make it work in the story.**

**Please please please tell me what you think! Reviews are what fuels my motivation to write! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

Jefferey held Emma's hand with a polite gentleness as they danced. His impressive height and built frame demanded the utmost respect from strangers, though he really reminded Emma of a big ol' teddy bear. Emma politely smiled at the faces around her and moved robotically in step. She was in the zone right now; unable to process coherent thoughts beyond what step she had to make next. Her mother's lavender ball gown fit her like a glove, though it was heavy as all hell. She wasn't sure how many dance numbers she had left in her.

Jefferey was the first son of Frederick and Abigail: the successor to his throne. Unlike many of the other vain egotistical princes that offered their hand, he never saw the appeal of waltzing. He was not cut out for dancing, which made it fun whenever he mustered enough courage to even ask. At least Emma was a good enough learner to survive public appearances.

They knew each other prior to the retreat. All of the princes and princesses knew each other. She had danced with them hundreds of times. Whether it was birthday celebrations, holidays, weddings or anniversaries, encountering the other families was common. This retreat didn't hold any weight in any of the royal monarch's courts, which made the necessity of going to these balls all the more frustrating. _This was supposed to be a vacation, for God's sake._

Just was the music slowed and hinted the end, it started back up again with vigor. Minutes passed by of continuous waltzing and Emma felt the frustration growing in the back of her mind. Jefferey noticed the annoyance cross over her features. He smiled. "I take it we're on the same page, then?"

"Come again?"

"Please tell me I'm not the only one who has gotten sick of this place already. I know I shouldn't be; It has only been what, a week?"

Emma grinned slyly, "Thank god someone agrees with me."

"Remind me again why are we here." Jefferey's voice hushed down to a mocking whisper. The two of them shared a soft intimate laugh.

The sound of irritation, a blatant clearing of the throat, quickly silenced Emma and Jefferey. George, the first son of Phillip and Aurora, danced stiffly with Princess Alexandria close by. "When are you two going to act your own age?" He muttered smugly under his breath.

Emma rolled her eyes and glared back at the pompous prince. "Whenever you start acting like you're seventeen and not thirty, let me know."

Jefferey chuckled, "Yeah seriously George, like you're one to talk."

George cocked his head to the side; his hostile narrow gaze fixating on Emma's dance partner. "God help whatever kingdom you end up ruling."

_George_, where would Emma even start with him? The guy was full of himself. He danced like a prideful peacock. He had asked Emma to dance on occasion, however it was a rarity and indefinitely due to obligation. They weren't very fond of each other though he'd never come right out and say it. The reason? She beat him once in a sword-fight years ago. They fought with wooden sticks and Emma was seven. _Really, you'd think a guy would move on._ Unfortunately his pride meant everything to him and since then, not more than a few words had been exchanged. Emma didn't mind it; it saved her the trouble of enduring a dance with the airhead.

Alexandria, daughter of Ella and Thomas, gently tapped George's shoulder with a mild scolding glare. Gritting teeth in silence, George reluctantly changed the direction of their waltz to put distance between him and Jefferey.

Alexandria effortlessly displayed all poise and beauty: not a single platinum blonde hair ever strayed out of place and not even the subtlest blemish could ever be seen. She and Emma were friends, or at least acted like it whenever there was a function to attend. Truth be told it seemed impossible for anyone to really get to know Alexandria. She was always too happy and too polished. Even when they were alone playing together, the girl never displayed an emotion beyond happiness. Her smile was too perfect and unwavering. To Emma, she seemed empty. Onlookers envied Princess Alexandria, but the other princes and princesses saw her behavior as nothing more than a full-time masquerade.

In the vacant window of space that George left on the dance floor, Emma caught the glimpse of _his_ shaggy dark hair and snugly-fit black waist coat. He was on the far side of the room. He was standing confidently; his shoulders were arched back and his head was held high. Emma unconsciously tightened her grip around Jefferey's hand. _Who on earth was he dancing with? Oh my god, was that... no it couldn't be... Johanna? He was seriously dancing with her nanny?_ The old portly woman was in her early seventies now. Her status as a luxury guest at this retreat was a gift from her parents: she was celebrating her fiftieth year of work with the family. It seemed that luxury status was paying off right about now.

Emma shook her head with the disbelief that her parents actually went out and bought dance lessons for the woman. Emma wasn't objecting. Despite the weariness she bared in her heart for the guy instructing her, the sight of Johanna's beaming crooked smile warmed Emma to the core. Killian chuckled and looked down at their moving feet. After having said something seemingly encouraging to Johanna, the old maid blushed and laughed loudly without a filter.

Johanna always wanted to learn how to dance; she took a keen interest in balls and often inquired about Emma's dance lessons. The only problem was that Johanna never had the courage to speak up. God knows how many times Snow had offered to provide her with an escort for a ball. The nanny was always too bashful to attend. Emma remembered Johanna's surprise sixtieth birthday party as being the only time she ever saw her nanny dance. David jumped on the opportunity to be her proud escort that night.

Killian continued to speak to her with a soft encouraging smile. Johanna nodded and looked down at her feet, placing slow emphasis on every step so that she stayed in sync with him. Another moment passed when she looked back up for reassurance. Emma felt her chest buzz with energy when that infectious grin slid up the side of his whiskered face. Without any warning, his eyes lifted up from Johanna and met Emma's watchful stare from across the floor. _It was as if he could read her goddamn mind!_ Her gaze shot down to the floor with blushed hot cheeks.

Jefferey was quiet for the remainder of the dance, not strong enough even to comment on Emma's nervous shifting glances. Despite all his efforts, sometimes it was impossible to keep others from getting under his skin. People like George in particular. The couples scattered off of the floor when the orchestra finally tied out the last chord. He let his hands fall from Emma's with a downcast empty stare.

"Hey," Emma lifted his chin with her forefinger, "don't listen to what he said. You know how George can get."

He nodded weakly and turned to take his leave. Dissatisfied with letting him brood alone, Emma grabbed his arm. "C'mon Jeff, you're sick of this. I am too. Let's just get out of here for awhile."

* * *

The chipper songs of the forest crickets died out as Emma and Jefferey strolled down the nature-made path. The white moon was their torch; it shined down on the forest floor. The two royals walked side by side, comfortably embracing the silence with sweet relief. The straps of Emma's silver heels dangled down from her loose grasp. Her bare feet pressed into the cool, fine soil.

"You can't let George get under your skin."

"You don't understand, Emma. The families can't be at peace forever with guys like him coming to the throne."

"He's an idiot, sure, but it's not like his parents are bad people. They'll put him in his place."

"Yeah and what if they don't?" Jefferey stopped walking and sternly looked up at Emma. "What if the guy we saw in there never changes? Let's just get straight to the point. What authorial rule will my kingdom really have when the golden touch is buried six feet underground? My granddad is not going to live forever, you know. It's easy for guys like George to boast and act all confident. His parents are reconstructing the kingdom now for him to take it over later. My kingdom has already had its glory days when Midas ruled. We're still wealthy now, sure, but gold never lasts long. By the time I take over, there will be nothing left."

"Stop talking like that."

"I wouldn't be saying it if it wasn't true, Emma. As great as peace is, it never lasts."

Emma pursed her lips together, uncomfortable with where this conversation was headed. "_Why not_? Why are you so quick to look ahead and plan for war? God! You know what, you're right. I don't understand." She spat out frustratingly. "So what if George is an asshole? What can he _really_ do to you? Newsflash Jeff, we're all going to be rulers one day. Not just him. You have every right to fight back. If you let him walk all over you now, then yeah, he's going to give you hell later on down the road."

The silence ate at them and left bad tastes in the back of their throats. Jefferey sighed, the muscles in his jaw eventually slacked. "You're right. I'm sorry. Forget I said anything about it. Let's just get back to the dance." His words rolled off of his tongue with difficulty. Lying was another skill that Jefferey never excelled at.

Suddenly amidst the hushed natural whispers of the woods, the sound of a fleeting gasp broke their admonishing stares. Emma turned around and searched for the source of the frantic panting. Jefferey froze; his eyes widened and his body went rigid. "Emma," he muttered nervously still staring out into the darkness. Emma followed his trail of sight until she noticed the huddled form leaning against a far-off tree.

The girl's distinguishable dark brown curls shined under the moonlight and shielded her face from the two onlookers. Her long lean arms wrapped around her knees and scrunched her body in a ball. Her shoulders shook as she helplessly continued to cry into her lap.

"Hey," Emma called out. The girl paused but did not look up. She waited for another moment then continued to push out deep sobs.

Jefferey took a step closer and studied the girl's features. "Isn't that the dancer? You know, the one we saw a few nights ago?" He spoke in a nervous hushed whisper.

_Milah_.

"Stay here, Jeff. I'll be right back." Emma picked up the front of her heavy gown, turned and ran back down the forest path.

She was back in the ballroom just a few seconds later. The only people who seemed to had noticed her disappearance were her parents; they were shooting her looks of concern and confusion as she ran in barefoot. Emma scoured the outskirts of the ballroom until she finally found the guy she was looking for.

Standing mutely still, Jack was inwardly counting the seconds until his shift was over and he could take off his gaudy waiter uniform. At first he didn't hear his name being called. Another waiter had to break stance to lean over to nudge him, "Snap out of it man, a royal's comin' over." Jack turned and was shocked to find none other than Princess Emma hysterically gawking at him as she continued to weave through the dining table arrangement. "Jack I need your help," she muttered out of breath. "It's Milah. Something's wrong. She's crying out in the woods."

"What happened? Did you see anything?"

"No Prince Jefferey and I just found her out there crying. She doesn't look good at all. I think it's something serious."

Jack sighed and looked out into the crowd of people for the only guy that could help the situation. "Wait here," he mumbled to the princess and paced out onto the floor. Emma watched as the waiter politely shuffled through dancers over towards the far side. Killian stopped his dance with Johanna and glared at his approaching cousin with confusion, only before Jack leaned in and whispered in his ear. Killian drew away with a wide apprehensive stare before immediately setting off towards the exit with haste.

With the intention to meet the two boys at the door from which she came, Emma began to skirt through the dining tables scattered near the walls of the room. Before she could get far, a hand lightly grabbed Emma's shoulder. She whipped her head around, holding back her hostile attack when she recognized her father's worried expression. "Emma, what's going on?"

"Nothing, I was just going to get some fresh air." David leaned his head to the side with disappointment. Emma sighed, "Okay I'm sorry, but I really can't tell you. Please just trust me on this."

"Are you alright?"

She nodded weakly. He studied her green frantic eyes for any signs that she could be in danger before reluctantly dropping his hand from her shoulder. "Alright well just be back soon. I don't like the idea of you running off in the woods. Okay?"

She nodded again with a reassuring smile before hastily leaving him. She hated lying to her father. She rarely did. Unfortunately Emma knew that she could not involve her parents into matters such as these. She didn't even know what this was all about yet.

Despite her father's interruption, Emma was still able to meet with the two boys just as they approached the door. Killian's eyes were narrow, storming with troubled restlessness. She couldn't bring herself to look back in his direction. "This way," she muttered back to them as she ran back out onto the trails.

* * *

Jefferey was still standing out on the path. His eyes were fixed in Emma's direction and eased with the sight of the two men following her from behind. "She's over here," he pointed towards the girl. Killian immediately took off from the trail and ran over to her.

He knelt down and gently rested a hand over the shaking grasp around her knees. The forest was loud now with a choir of insect calls, making it impossible for Emma to hear what he was saying. Judging from the excessive shuddering of her shoulders, Milah's cries seemed to intensify in Killian's presence. He readjusted his arms around her trembling body and picked her up. She buried her face in his neck as her fingers weakly latched onto the front on his shirt. Killian slowly walked towards the group that had been watching in silence from afar. As he approached, Emma finally noticed how pale Milah really was. She had sweated through her shirt and was shivering away her impending sobs.

Killian's eyes were trained on the ground in front of him, brooding with murderous intent for the man responsible for this. The group wordlessly shuffled out of his way when he stalked back onto the path. Emma could hear the girl's raspy breaths; see her trembling fingers clinging to the fabric of his white undershirt as Killian walked by.

* * *

**Well damn...**

**Hey readers! Thanks for the support so far, I LOVED reading everything you guys have had to say! If you've seen the movie, you have ****_an idea_**** as to where these characters are headed... ;)**

**Just for the record, I adore Phillip and Aurora. It pained me to make George so snide but somebody had to play the role. This chapter was very difficult for me to get through considering my classes and there not being a lot of fluff. I promise there is more of all that ahead! I'll try my best update the next part sooner! xxx**


	3. Chapter 3

The air was warm and smelled of freshly cut grass layered in morning dew. The forest trails were calling to her, which didn't happen all that often. She had to get off of the campgrounds, take a break from whatever it was that was distracting her away from her obligations. If that meant riding a giant stinking animal for a few hours, then so be it.

All she had to do was mention her horse once. That was all it took for her parents to jump on the idea of spending the day together getting lost out in the woods. They could never resist the opportunity to go out exploring on horseback, her father especially. With these plans now set, Emma was then forced to sit patiently to wait for her parents to finish their breakfasts. Much to her dismay they took their sweet time, relishing in every bite of their eggs and ham. The blonde teenager grew antsy; her toes began to tap an accelerating tempo under the table.

Snow raised an eyebrow at her while taking a careful sip of her hot tea. Emma bit her lip and calmed her foot. _I can't tell you, not yet._

The familiar teenage boy in the white uniform stood rigidly behind Charming. Snow was the first to push her eating utensils down. She smiled politely when the boy, Jack, swiftly picked up her plate and handed it to a nearby bus boy. Charming cleared the last remnants of his eggs and contently put down his fork. He looked up and grinned at the impatient countenance of his daughter. "I take it you're ready, then?"

"Yeah, let's get out of here," she mumbled. As hard as she tried to fight her curiosity, she couldn't help but notice how hard Jack was trying to maintain a poker face while leaning over to pick up her father's dish. He was hiding something, or trying to at least.

"Jack," he heard her call out after him though it did no good. His steps hastened towards the sanctuary of the kitchen ahead. "Hey, wait!" Emma ran after him and grabbed his shoulder to slow him down. "Tell me what happened."

"Nothing to concern yourself over, Princess."

Emma scowled and crossed her arms. "I'm not that thick."

"Leave it be, princess," he muttered and yanked his arm out of her grasp. He turned away from her and quietly proceeded towards the kitchen.  
"I was the one who found her!" Emma countered loudly after him. Jack nervously peered around at the nearby table of royal guests. They all seemed to notice the Princess's raised voice. Emma's lips twisted into a scowl. "I have a right to know!"

"Alright alright," he calmly took her hand and led her swiftly into the kitchen. "Christ, are you trying to get me fired?"

"I'm sorry." She took a step back, astonished by how brazen he sounded. It wasn't everyday that someone had the guts to talk to her like that. "I'm just worried."

"Killian hasn't talked but some of the guys are saying she's knocked up."

"Do they know who the father is?"

Jack looked at the kitchen hands with distrust. His lips pursed tightly together to keep another word from slipping out. Emma's eyes hardened when she read the answer hidden in his fearful gaze. "Jack, tell me who the father is."

His eyelids fluttered, "The guy cleared out sometime during the night. By the time Milah told Killian and he kicked down the guy's cabin door, the scum already found a way off the grounds."

"You mean he left Milah alone with the baby?"

Jack shrugged, "The guy can't even take care of himself, let alone take care of a baby. Even if he did stay he wouldn't have been much help. He worked in the stables, not much going for him there."

"What's Milah going to do?"

Jack tilted his head curiously, "What you got in your head, princess? You thinking of actually helping her?"

"If I can, why not? It's not like anyone else will."

"That's a valiant gesture, but I wouldn't count on getting too far with it. Milah's a tough lass but also quite stubborn. I can't imagine her letting you help even if she really did need it."

Emma nodded in recognition of the challenge. Milah can be the most stubborn lass in the whole goddamn resort if she wanted. It didn't change the fact that she needed help. She needed money. One ounce of help from Emma's family, and Milah wouldn't be asking for much of anything afterwards. "Yeah, we'll see about that."

* * *

The forest path opened at a fork; one way led to the rolling green pasture while the other continued on deeper into the forest. David turned back expectantly to the two women following leisurely behind him on their own horses. Of course he wanted to break out into the open country, run fast and free. Snow smiled lovingly at her eager husband. "Go ahead, honey. I think Emma and I will stick on the route. We'll meet you back at the stables."

"You sure?" He sounded reluctant though his body language spoke otherwise, already rearing his horse up to run loose.

Snow laughed, "Absolutely."

David grinned and turned, immediately sending the horse in full gallop down to the rolling hills. Snow looked back to her daughter, who had caught up by her side. "So are you enjoying yourself so far?"

Emma looked over to her mother and gave a sarcastic nod, "Yeah it's been a real vacation."

Snow rolled her eyes and grinned, "It has been a little too structured, even for my liking."

"And that's saying something," Emma chuckled comfortably.

Snow tilted her head while studying her daughter, trying to read whatever it was that had her so on edge. "Is there," she began lightly, "something going on? Your father and I understand that this hasn't exactly been the break that you were hoping for. It's just," she paused when Emma looked back with anxious eyes, "you haven't been acting yourself lately."

Emma nervously looked down at the shining chestnut mane of her horse. "I can't really tell you."

"Emma, you know you can tell me anything. If you're worried about your father knowing, this can just stay between us. We just want to be sure that you're alright."

"I know," Emma quickly looked up to her mother, "and I usually do tell you guys everything. I never keep secrets from you, but this," she winced with uncertainty of how to best phrase her words, "is kind of a delicate situation. I'm fine though. I promise you guys, I'm fine and if I wasn't I would tell you straight away."

Snow frowned, "I don't like the idea of you keeping secrets from us." Emma opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by Snow's hand. "But I trust you. Your father and I both trust you. You've given us no reason to doubt you. Just please, if whatever is happening escalates beyond what you can handle, please come to us."

"You know I will." They smiled warmly at each other, grateful that it was just the two of them there to share the fleeting moment. Emma always considered herself lucky to have had that relationship with both of her parents. Of course David's protective nature did get a little overbearing at times, but nevertheless him and Snow were always there when Emma needed them to be. Some people didn't have parents to talk to growing up; people they could confide in and relate with on more than just a parent-child level. First and foremost, they were parents. Though there was also a great deal of respect shared in their relationship. They were friends to Emma; confidants to share wisdom and advice.

"I was meaning to ask you something. I sort of has to do with what's been happening."

"Sure," Snow smiled encouragingly, "anything."

"I was wondering if I could give away the necklace Rumplestiltskin gave me for my birthday last year. You know, the one with the emeralds?"

Snow stopped her horse and gave a questioning glare, "Didn't we just agree that if you were in trouble, you'd-"

"It's not for me," she urgently interrupted her mother, her green eyes growing wide with innocence. Emma brought her horse to a full stop besides Snow. "It's for a friend."

Snow shrugged, "And I'm guessing you're not going to tell me why this friend needs an enchanted necklace?"

"I hate being secretive just as much as you do. Please just trust me on this. I have a bunch more back home; I won't miss it."

"Sweetie, it would be different if this was a necklace that you're father and I gave you. This necklace was from Rumplestiltskin. Giving it away would be an insult, which is the last thing that the family needs to deal with."

"It's the only valuable keepsake that I brought," Emma pleaded.

Snow sighed, her eyes dropping with exhaustion. Slowly with resolve, she reached into the breast pocket of her jacket and pulled out another necklace. The center jewel was a large ruby; beautifully cut and rimmed with small inlaid diamonds. "Take this."

Snow moved her horse a few steps closer to Emma so that they were in reaching distance. Even under the overcast clouds which had just littered the sky, the jewel sparkled and deflected red rays of light. "Oh my god," Emma muttered in awe.

"It was a present that your father and I wanted to give you at the end of the trip. I'll tell him that I left it back at the castle."

"Are you sure?" Emma frowned guiltily.

"If your friend really needs the help, then help her." Snow smiled weakly, "Emma, nothing makes us more proud than having a daughter that puts others well being above her happiness by frugal means. Thank you for asking me about this."

* * *

She went to the hidden tavern on her own that night. Jack was more surprised than anyone to see her there, perhaps due to his doubt of the seriousness of her declared intentions this morning. "What the bloody hell are you doing here, Princess?"

Emma glared impatiently at him, "Did I not tell you that I was going to find a way to help?" She pulled out the necklace and showed it to him under the warm lighting.

"Holy…-" Jack quickly pushed the necklace back down into her pocket, "Are you trying to get robbed? You forget where you are."

Emma grinned smugly, "Think it will be enough?"

Jack let out a choked laugh, feeling the beads of sweat forming at the base of his neck. Never had he ever seen something so magnificent, so expensive, up close. It would be easy to swipe the relic and make a run for it. Bartering the thing would set him up for life: a different life. The notion gave him chills. "Come on," he struggled to speak. "They're over here."

Jack reluctantly led Emma through the crowd on the dance floor. It was easier to maneuver through people due to the slowness and intimacy of the song. Couples took as less space as they could by practically molding into each other. Finally Emma spotted Killian's leather getup. Him and Milah were also dancing quite intimately, though in a peculiar way. It was how he wrapped himself around her that set them apart from the others; holding her arms against her chest in a reassuring embrace while his chin rested on her shoulder with closed eyes. He was holding onto her, but not in a sexual way. It was needing, and protective. Milah slowed their steps when she noticed Killian's cousin approaching with the Princess.

Wasting absolutely no time, Emma pulled out a decadent necklace and held it out to Milah. "Here, get some money for it. Go find a doctor who can help." The necklace glimmered under the warm lantern light; its heavy-cast ruby was rimmed in the dazzling sparkle of diamond. "It was a present from my parents," Emma blinked.

Killian gawked at the rare relic; the jewel-encrusted piece was more magnificent than any treasure he had ever seen this close. Milah pursed her lips frustratingly. She turned away from the offering and shifted her arms around Killian's neck. Her eyes dropped down to a central point of Killian's chest. "Thanks, but no thanks," she mumbled softly.

He snapped his head down to her, shocked. She couldn't bear to meet his gaze though she felt its intense weight pierce into her pale forehead. "For God's sake don't look at me like that, Killian," she mumbled. "I've got it sorted. There's no need to accept charity from the royals."

"It's not charity," Emma interrupted. "You need this more than I do. I have too many of these things back at home. For once I would like to actually put one towards something meaningful."

"You're sweet princess, but I don't need your help."

"Why haven't you said anything?" Killian finally spoke out. "You've got it _sorted_? What the bloody hell does that mean?"

"Oh hush, Killian. You already have enough to worry about. You've got to figure out the showcase next week."

Jack took a step into the circle. "Yeah what are you going to do about that? The imp is not going to take kindly to maternity leave as an excuse."

"To hell with the showcase!" Killian spat out, his impatient rage spiraling. "What exactly have you got sorted?"

Milah rolled her eyes at Killian's dramatics and looked up at Emma, who was struggling to keep up with it all. "You." Milah exclaimed in revelation. "You can take my place."

"Excuse me?" Emma gawked. "Take your place in what?"  
"The showcase," she smiled and looked up at her still-very-frustrated dance partner. "There's not much to it; it's only one number."

"Not much to it? This princess can't even keep her feet straight," Jack laughed.

"Killian can make anyone look professional. He can train her."

Emma listened but didn't really process, nor did she protest or complain. Milah's eyes which were previously clouded in doubt and fear were now alight with opportunity and excitement. This was it for them; their livelihood was at stake.

Jack looked over at the dumb-struck princess and grinned. "You said you wanted to help, highness. You still want to make good on your word?"

Emma swallowed the feeling in her gut that protested; the thoughts that screamed, _No! What the hell? You're no dancer! Get your head out of the clouds._

"I'm not much of a dancer," Emma paused with the uncertainty of the decision she was about to make, "but if it means you get to keep your jobs then I'll do it."

Emma looked up for confirmation. Killian was still obviously infuriated and frustrated, not because of the showcase, but because Milah hid something so important from him. Milah's hopeful smile countered his furious brooding. She reached and brushed his disheveled hair back from his sweating forehead. Her cool fingers tingled his skin, her smile washed out the fire burning in his chest. He could not bring himself to argue with her. One, because of her fragile state and two, because as much as he hated to admit, this job was everything.

His narrowed gaze, which was still hot with discontent, finally focused in on Emma. The stress lined along the muscles of his unshaven jaw slacked. His sea blue eyes softened in defeat. "The performance is in a week's time. Agreeing to do this means you'll have to commit your time to practice." Emma nodded silently in agreement. "What I say, goes. There will be no arguing or second-guessing my instruction. Do we have an understanding, Princess?"

"So tomorrow morning then?"

"Five-thirty sharp. We start early and end late."

Emma's head shouted with protest. Five fucking thirty in the morning? She swallowed the annoyance down, pushing it deep, deep down into her gut where the complaints had no chance of resurfacing. Crossing her stiff arms, Emma managed to dish out a challenging smirk. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow morning then."

Killian's gaze swiftly raked over her body as if he were already sizing her out. "Aye, till tomorrow then. Gather your strength, princess. We have our work cut out of us indeed." His final biting words sent a fiery blush to her cheeks. What the hell did that mean? It didn't really matter because Killian had already ended the conversation and turned away from her.

Emma turned on her heels and headed towards the exit without so much as one departing word to Jack.

What the hell did she just agree to? An entire week of waking up early to work out with that guy? They haven't even started yet and she already wanted to slap the idiot square across his rough cheek.

Jack left Killian and Milah to themselves. Killian lazily leaned his chin over her lowered forehead. His fingers locked around her waist. They fell numb to the music, moving as if on instinct to the shifting chords and melody.

"You know I can't keep the child." Milah mumbled loud enough only for him to hear. "My life depends on my being able to dance."

"And yet you refuse to tell me who you've sought out to solve your problem."

"He can help me, that's all that matters. Besides, there's nothing you can do about it now. Come by next week this mess will be taken care of." Milah sighed exhaustively, "The deal has already been struck."

* * *

**Anyone excited for that first 5:30am practice? Ahem. ;)**

**This chapter was really tricky to get through. It was the last bit of necessary plot set-up before we get to the fun stuff (plus I am in the midst of midterms in college). So again, apologies for the wait. **

**I am so glad that you all have enjoyed it so far! Please please keep sending me feedback. If there are any fans of the movie out there that want to see something focused on in particular, let me know! Things are about to get heated, folks... xxx **


	4. Chapter 4

"Morning Princess," Killian lively muttered. "You slept well, I hope."

Emma nodded with a great yawn as she dragged her feet into the empty faculty dining hall. Tables and stools were pushed to the walls on all sides, giving them plenty of space in the center of the room to practice.

Milah was still stacking chairs into the corner of the room when Emma came in.

"Milah will be helping establish the basics." Killian spoke coolly while walking out to meet Emma in the middle of the room. "Come," he gestured for her to take his extended hand. "Let's not waste time on stretching our jaws."

She looked at him confusedly for a moment but obliged to follow his lead. Allowing him to guide her, Emma obediently kept quiet while Killian swept his hands over her frame to correct her posture. His fingers traced down the lower half of her back to ensure she was standing up absolutely straight. The tips of her fingers dragged down her extended arms, helping establish the proper way to hold her personal dancing space. If Emma wasn't half-asleep, she might have been more obvious about how his intimate behavior took its toll on her nerves. Luckily for the both of them, 5:30am meant Killian could act like that without her having the energy or cynicism to dispute it.

"We'll start out slow," he muttered with a soothing tone of reassurance."Once we figure where you are as far as the essentials, then we'll decide how to go about the rest of our training. We have a lot to do in a short period of time."

"Yeah I get it," Emma nodded with her hands still held out in place. "Let's just get moving."

* * *

He stood a few feet away from her with sternly crossed arms. His glare intensified when the blonde in front of him took even the slightest overstep.

_One, two, three, four. One, two three, four._

_Back, step, step, back. Forward, step, step, forward._

Her hand was kept raised limply in the air, shadowing where it would find the back of her ghost partner's neck. His mumbling slurred robotically into its own rhythm. His eyes slowly swept down her body from her head to her toes.

_One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four._

It went on like that for awhile. Emma kept her focused gaze on the subtle crack in the wall painted over with cheap off-white primer. She turned the majority of her mind off, allowing her sense of rhythm to take over. With every circuit, Emma felt her muscles regain pep in their step, accentuating each change in direction.

Suddenly two hands pressed against her stomach and back, forcing her posture to straighten. The unexpected contact to the lower half of her torso caused Emma to falter. Milah gracefully moved alongside her, helping keep their steps in line with Killian's steady counting. "Keep going dear, you're doing fine," Milah reassured her softly. Emma's gaze dropped down to her feet with uncertainty.

"Eyes up," Killian robotically snapped. Emma quickly looked up to him. Under his careful glare, Emma felt her limbs begin to tremble. Milah seemed to notice; she exerted more pressure on her abdomen to keep her straight. His gaze narrowed and gripped onto her nervousness. She was caught in his stare, unable to draw away from the two intense navy gray storms staring back at her from the shadowed corner of the room. He continued calling out the steps. The movement of his lips began to mesmerize her.

_One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four._

Another hour passed before the drilling ache in her heel went numb. Her knees began to wobble with every step and she wasn't sure how many more rounds of this she could endure. Though the concept of stepping on the two had been ingrained in her muscle memory, her weakening physicality had started to run its toll.

Killian's smirk arched high enough for her to notice despite the blurring focus of her vision. He sauntered over slowly with a collected smirk, still reciting the _one, two, three, four_ with his eyes locked on her. She tried not to shudder or let the closing distance between them sway her rhythm. He closed the steps between them until his fingers grasped her raised palm. His other hand firmly took hold of her waist and pulled her in close, reestablishing her footing.

Emma felt her heart jump as his fingers pressed into her pelvic bone. Her breathing hitched, her eyes nervously darted up from the center crevice of his chest up to his calm reassuring gaze. Milah's hands slowly left the back of her waist, allowing Killian to take full control.

"Don't give in now," he murmured into her ear. "Challenge yourself. Stay on your feet."

Emma tightened her grasp within his. Ignoring the loud protest coming up from her soles, she weakly nodded and suppressed the screams of impending collapse. The collected control he offered allowed her to emphasize each toe point and sync the sway of her hips to how he turned.

There was something about dancing with Killian, whether it be his encouraging gaze or confident steps, that made Emma feel so empowered in her own skin. It didn't feel wrong for a princess to swing her hips and give a subtle kick to each step. The screaming thoughts of pain and exhaustion were subdued and replaced with the determination to keep up and earn her instructor's respect.

Milah took another few steps away from the two of them. She covered her ecstatic grin with her two palms and bounced on the balls of her feet. "Just the first day and already she's got the rhythm."

Killian mirrored Milah's excitement in his own wide grin which never strayed from Emma's determined gaze. "Give it another hour before we might count this as an early achievement."

"_Another_ hour?" Emma's eyes widened with annoyance. Immediately silenced by the amused perk of his brow, she reluctantly shut her mouth and kept her cursing thoughts to herself for the rest of the hour. Though with Killian in front of her, softly muttering the beat in her ear with steady arms, that hour seemed to go by a hell of a lot faster than the first three.

* * *

**My midterms are over which means I can get back to writing, yay! The dance practices will be divided into a few shorter chapters like this. Thanks for all the amazing support and patience!**


	5. Chapter 5

His hot breath brushed along the nape of her neck, and she anticipated the stroke of his hand. Starting at her wrist, which he had just tucked over his shoulder, Killian slowly dragged his hand down the more sensitive side of her arm. Emma bit her lip and fought her urge to laugh from her awakened ticklish nerves. She dropped her head and surrendered herself to compulsive giggling.

He scowled and backed away from her. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Emma mumbled with a wide grin. "I can't help that I'm ticklish."

"You can, actually. Perhaps if you got your head out of the clouds, we might accomplish something, Highness."

Emma rolled her eyes with a calm smile and turned back around to face the wall. "Let's just try it again."  
"This time keep your wits about you," he growled.

She soon felt Killian's body press back up against her. His head leaned over her shoulder, brushing his rough stubble against her soft cheek. Taking her hand in his, he lifted her arm over the back of his head. Her fingers weaved into his shagged hair as a means of keeping her arm steady. At a tauntingly slow pace, Killian dragged his fingers down the underside of her arm. Emma battled her urge giggle. Much to his surprise she remained absolutely still, unshaken by the tickling chills he knew he was leaving in the wake of his gentle touch. She leaned her head into his face, intimately nudging her nose against the side of his prickled jaw. His hand continued to draw down her bare side until finally her slim tank gave her respite. "Good," he gruffly whispered against her deepening breaths. "It only took us four bloody go's of it."

* * *

The morning was still young when they moved on to the routine.

He reached out with a tight grip on her hand while he spun her around. The light brushing wind kissed her sweating neck before he pulled her back in. Even at such an early hour in the morning, the heat had settled in thick with humidity. They would have felt the occasional nip of a mosquito, pesky with thirst, had it not been for their constant shuffling, stepping, and turning around the empty dining hall. Emma could feel her thin tank already sticking to her back.

Thank god she had ditched her riding shirts and accepted Milah's less conservative dance attire. Now that Killian had taken her through most of the routine, they were moving fast-paced for hours at a time. Emma was glad to make the sacrifice of showing skin if it meant the fabric was breathable.

She felt the turn as he stretched his arm over her head. Taking the slightest overstep as he pulled her back in, Emma accidentally stomped the ball of her foot down on his toes. Following the groan that rumbled deep from his chest, he broke the routine and hobbled a step away. "Damn," he growled with frustration. "Are you even trying?"

"Yes actually," she retorted with rivaling irritation.

"I need graceful swan, not lumbering drunk," he growled.

"You know what? I am working my ass off over here, and for what?" The bite in her tone forced him to take another step back. "We've got two more days and we haven't gone over all the turns, had a proper run-through, or even attempted the lift at the end. Forgive me for being a little skeptical that this is all going to work out."

Killian dragged his hand through his sweaty roots with a raised quizzical brow. She bit her lip and continued, "I get that I'm not half as good a dancer as Milah but I'm doing my best. You could at least keep the asswhole remarks to yourself."

He shook his head with a bewildered smirk, "You know something… You're absolutely right." Without giving her a full answer, Killian paced over to where their jackets were hung on wooden pegs jutting from the wall. "Come on, Highness. Let's work on that lift."

Emma skeptically watched him walk over to the door. "Why are we leaving the practice hall?"

Killian threw her a jacket and smirked mischievously. "When are you going to take a leap of faith in me?" She scoffed and pulled her arms through the sleeves, hesitantly following her dance instructor outside.

* * *

The fallen trunk extended over the narrow ridge in front of her. Layered in thick mossy growth, the trunk offered no promise of secure footing. Killian walked over the trunk barefoot with ease, paying no attention to the surging rapids beneath him. He turned on the balls of his feet to meet eyes with a very bewildered Emma.

"If we're going to perform this lift, two major concepts must be grasped. The first is balance." Extending both arms out to the side, Killian lifted one foot off of the log. He wobbled at first, though after a moment of contemplation, Killian smiled comfortably up at Emma.

She gawked at him, "You're out of your mind if you think I'm getting up there, pal."

"Come now, Princess." He grinned smugly, "It's not all that bad once you've got some footing."

She crossed her arms and looked down skeptically at the crashing river below. "Well that's the kicker, isn't it?"

"Balance is imperative to what we're doing. If I did not believe in your capability to perform, we wouldn't be wasting our time out here." He sauntered over the trunk until he stood just above her. With a relaxed offered hand, he gave her a cool reassuring smile. "Let's see it, darling."

She grabbed his hand, squeezing on to it for dear life, as he slowly pulled her up on the trunk. He lowered both of his hands to her waist and slowly led her out over the rapids. She took small steps; keeping as close to his body as physically possible. When they came to a full stop, she felt his waist press against her torso. She felt his nose brush against the side of her cheek as his hands slowly left her waist. "I'm letting go of you now, Emma," he whispered in her ear. Her bottom lip trembled with anxiety as the heat of his body retreated away. The roaring rapids crashed against the rocks below her, spraying cold sprinkles of freshwater over her bare skin. Her body shivered and she felt her knees begin to buckle.

"Eyes up," Killian shouted a small distance away. Emma finally looked up from her feet into his focused stare, which was strangely warm with reassurance and encouragement. "I suggest moving your attention elsewhere. A stage-fright dancer doesn't search for respite in the audience. You shouldn't focus on what's below you."

"I can't… I can't do this," she shuddered nervously as she felt her feet tremble.

"Yes you can," he stared back intensely though he already made a move closer to her. "I know you can. Find your source of stability, whatever that may be. Hold on to that."

She looked up and gripped onto his stare. With only a few feet of distance between them, she felt more at ease when he took another step closer to her. His presence, his command and control, slowed her racing heart. _He's not going to let anything happen to you, Emma. He knows what he's doing. Trust him._ Sucking in another shaking breath, Emma slowly straightened herself out and raised both arms out on either side. Her focus never strayed from his gaze while the muscles in her legs flexed and calmed all her nervous shaking.

"That's it, love," he smiled. "Now walk to me."

She swallowed with a darting glance down at the violent water gushing below. Looking back up, she grappled with those reassuring sea blue eyes before she took the first slow step. The trunk was moist and slimy, offering Emma no aid in her careful maneuver. Her toes curled into the pliant bark for leverage. "Take it slow," he called out apprehensively. "Remember you dictate the pace."

The way she saw it, she had three options. The first was to forget poise and balance and ungracefully run over the damn log until she knocked the both of them to ground. The second was to get down to her hands and knees and crawl across, enduring Killian's mocking remarks for the rest of the lesson. The third was to stay grounded in one spot and refuse to move until he helped her down. As plausible as each of those options were, she couldn't bring herself to make a decision. She looked over at him with uncertainty. "Don't you stop now."

She had to trust him. She had to believe that he wasn't going to let her fall.

Her left foot hesitantly felt its way forward followed by her right. Her breathing was ragged and the insides of her fisted palms were sweating. With every step she felt her body relaxing, little by little, the closer she got to him until finally she reached his open arms.

"There's that graceful Swan," he grinned amusingly while his arms steadied her waist.

She glared up at him, "If you don't help me down now, I'm pushing your ass into the river."

* * *

The lake, which was a short walking distance from the roaring rapids, was calm and quiet. A looming hazy mist settled over the still waters. Killian kicked off his boots and pulled his tattered shirt over his head with ease. He turned and gave Emma a questioning glare, "The Lake is a good place to start rehearsing the lift. Here we'll establish the second vital concept: trust. You've got to trust that I will hold you and not let you fall. You must also trust that you can maintain your composure while in the lift." He turned and gestured to the water, "The certainty that you won't break your neck on the fall should help matters."

Emma sighed, learning how little use it did to argue him, and begrudgingly began to pull off her own shoes. "You sure it's safe to swim here?"

"Don't you fret, Princess," he winked with a sly grin, "I am certified in oral resuscitation." Emma pulled Milah's tank over her head and tossed it to the ground, leaving her completely bare with the exception of her bra and silk panties. _Thank God David and Snow were at Bingo._

"Shall we get started then?" He grinned and offered his hand out to her.

The first steps they took into the water sent warning chills up both of their bodies. Killian could stomach the repulsively cold water; however Emma immediately felt her bottom jaw shudder. "How long did you say we were going to be in here?" She wrapped her arms around her bare stomach.

"All we must do is to go over the steps. We'll have a go at it, three times at most, to prove I'm able to hold you steady."

"You don't have to prove anything," Emma grumbled through her shattering teeth. "I believe you can hold me up no problem. We don't need to actually do this."

"As I said, it's not enough to trust yourself or your partner. You have to have faith in both." Killian stopped the two of them when the ice water nipped at the prickling skin of their hips. "You're going to take a few steps back, however many you need, before coming in for the lift. It's very important that you stretch your arms out the moment I reach for your hips to lift you. Do you understand?" Emma weakly nodded amidst her violent shivering. She took a few steps back away from him, careful not to step on any sharp rocks she couldn't see.

"One," he grinned with an eager perked brow, "two," he held out his arms for her, "three." As fast as she could run in water, Emma took five strong strides towards him before feeling his hands wrap tightly around her abdomen. As her body lifted out of the water, she stretched her arms and legs as straight as they could go. The warm forest breeze tickled her dripping frame.

"That's it darling. Now hold it, hold…" She felt her balance slipping, forcing her face-first into the ice water. She let out a choked excited cry before her entire body dived underneath the freezing lake water. Two warm arms quickly wrapped under the pits of her arms and pulled her up out of the water. She collided into his bare chest while the two arms wrapped tightly around her waist, which were somehow still warm. "You alright there?" He asked with a laughing smile.

She nodded and let her forehead drop down against his chest with an exasperated laugh, "Not bad for my first lift, huh?"

"Not bad at all," he nodded with a strangely compassionate gaze. She didn't want to break from his embrace, his warmth, though she knew they had two more tries of this. Just as before, she took a few steps back from him. Her body trembled with uncontrollable chills as Killian readied his footing and opened his arms out to her. "Ready whenever you are, Princess."

She bounded forward at him with pace. He found her waist again and propelled her up over his head and out of the water. She smiled, feeling the adrenaline coursing through her as Killian's hold around her waist tightened. "You've got it, Emma," he yelled up at her with a wide grin.

She huffed out a short laugh before her balance was swayed too far forward. "No, no, no, no…"

Her face broke through the ice water yet again. Just like before, Killian was quick to pull her back up into his arms. This time she reacted and wrapped her pale arms around his neck, letting her fingers weave through the roots of his hair. His sea blue eyes softened into hers, "Quite the marvel."

"Was that good?" She asked half incoherent through her shattering teeth. He smirked and tucked the loose strands of her hair behind her ear. He was so close to her, she could feel his hot fluttering breathes against the tip of her nose. "Two times should do it," he muttered softly with resolve.

* * *

**The water scene is one of my favorite scenes in the movie, so this was just way too much fun to write! Some more practicing ahead, maybe some more hungry eye-sex, who knows? ;)   
**

**Thanks for all of the wonderful feedback! Again this is my first AU so I'm in unfamiliar territory and when I publish, I'm never sure if what I'm writing is any good! Much love! xox **


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